Galatea
by Aeriel of Isternes
Summary: AU VxV As a result of mutual greed on their parent's part, Victor Van Dort is engaged to the slightly overwhelming Emily. When a spell is accidentally lifted on Victor's precious doll, Victoria, further complications ensue.
1. The Meeting

A/N: Why isn't there more VxV? By the way, I hope this story doesn't get too psychopathic…I tend to walk the line between cheerfully making fun of stories I enjoy, and generally disturbing everyone within a ten-mile radius. Which is probably why Tim Burton works as such a good medium for me. Well, enjoy! (I hope)   
Disclaimer: I make no claim of ownership on Corpse Bride. And I am very sorry if the formatting is weird. Blame this website.

He stared at the tiny figurine. Victoria looked cheerful today.  
The young man frowned. No, no, that wasn't right. Today wasn't such a happy day. It was a bit of a frightening day for Victor Van Dort.

Victor was supposed to meet his fiancée today.

Almost instinctively, his right hand rose to correct the mistake. Victoria's head was straightened, her face lowered to the ground.  
Her delicate white hands were crossed in front of her, her left clutching, as always, a miniscule flower with blue petals.  
At last, with meticulous precision, the young man slightly tilted her head so he could see Victoria's smile.  
Victor smiled as well. His doll's feelings would always mirror his own, but as long as she was encouraging him, he would be able to go on.

Victor had been given the little doll when he was very young. Not being a terribly creative child at the time, he had instantly named her Victoria. There was something in the small melancholy grey-haired doll that reminded him of himself.  
Ever since then, he had expressed himself through Victoria. There was never a time when Victor felt any strong emotion that it wasn't reflected by Victoria. 

"VICTOR! For heaven's sakes, get down here!"  
Victor sighed, and stood up.  
He gave Victoria one last look as he exited the room.  
"I wish you were alive." he murmured.

As he climbed into the carriage, upstairs on the desk, Victoria seemed to move her head just the tiniest bit up

Victor squirmed as his mother jabbed her finger into his cravat for what seemed to be at least the twelfth time. "And another thing! Always standing that way, look like you've got rickets or somethi-"  
At that choice moment, the Swanton's butler opened the door.  
Mrs. Van Dort quickly swallowed her criticism, replacing it with a false smile as she dragged her husband and son inside.  
The butler sniffed and slammed the door behind the Van Dorts so loudly that Victor jumped, to the displeasure of his parents.  
Choosing to ignore the faux pas, Victor's mother proceeded to loudly praise the Swanton mansion.  
"Oh, my! Such taste, such grandeur!"  
"Er, actually, it's not quite as big as our place." His father said quietly. "In fact, rather drafty…"  
Mrs. Van Dort whacked her husband soundly with her fan. "Be quiet!" she hissed.  
It was then that Victor noticed Mr. Swanton at the head of the stairs.

It had been briefly explained to him that Mr. Swanton was not an aristocrat, although he had some distant relatives who were, which was enough to boost the Van Dorts into 'fine society'. In fact, George and Emily Swanton still had quite a lot of money on their hands, even after the sad demise of Elizabeth Swanton, Emily's mother. Apparently, Mr. Swanton was greedy enough to marry off his only daughter simply for the sake of getting a little more money. 

So Victor was to marry Emily. 

He was informed that she had been taught to sing, dance, and play the piano. In theory, that sounded very nice, but Victor just hoped she was a kinder person than her father, who had an enormous grin on his face as the Van Dorts approached. 

'Smiling' did not suit Mr. Swanton very much. His rather frightening smirk took up much of his face, and made his greedy little pig eyes almost seem to bulge out of their sockets. 

"Ah, welcome, welcome!" He greeted, while the nasty grin stayed on his face. "Welcome, to our humble abode!" 

After not too long, Victor began to tune out what the three scheming parents were discussing, choosing instead to take his own look around what he could see of the mansion. 

It was, indeed, rather grand, as his mother had said, and rather drafty as well, as his father had said. The entire room was covered in gaudy red paint with gold swirls, while multiple portraits with small golden labels adorned the walls.

The young man squinted at these labels, but he could find none that read 'Emily Swanton'. Another thought occurred to Victor. What if she took after her father?

He didn't think himself particularly shallow, but it would still be rather frightening to be married to a short overweight little woman. Well, as long as she was nice…

Victor's head jerked up as he noticed a distant melody being played on a piano. It was fairly simple, probably only being played with one hand, since he didn't hear any accompaniment. Nevertheless, it was rather pretty.

Glancing around to make sure his parents and Mr. Swanton were well away, he began to quietly walk towards the direction of the music.

Once he reached the end of a hallway, the melody was at its most distinct. Victor shyly poked his head around the doorway of the room it was surely coming from.

Sitting at the piano stool was a woman, around his age, perhaps a little older. Her right hand was plucking out the mournful tune. She wore a light blue dress, and her dark brown hair hung limply around her shoulders.

It had to be Emily Swanton.

He stood awkwardly by the door, fiddling with his tie. Victor really wasn't sure what to say. She seemed so…aloof. Was he allowed to even be in this room? Perhaps he should leave.

At that moment, she tilted her head up and began to sing alongside the piano.

"If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain. In the ice or in the sun it's all the same-"

It was then that Victor's talent for clumsiness kicked in. In the process of taking another step forward, he somehow managed to trip over the rug and land in a noisy heap on the floor.

Emily spun around on the seat, and her eyes went wide when she saw him attempting to get up.

"Oh, dear. Was my singing that bad?"

As he brushed off his tie, Victor looked confused. "Er, no. It was actually…rather lovely."

Emily beamed. "Thank you. It's a rather morbid song though- one of my more bitter aunts wrote it." She laughed.

He was still a little confused. "Er- you're Miss Swanton… aren't you?"

She smiled again. "Yes. You must be Victor Van Dort." Her head tilted curiously in an eerie reminder of the way Victoria stood on his desk. "I heard that you play as well."

Victor was horrified. "N-n-no.' He stuttered. "What I mean is- er, not really, t-that is to say, I-"

"Oh, well, all right." Emily sighed. "I suppose if you don't play, you don't play. It's quite all right. It would have been nice if you did, though."

Now he felt guilty. This relationship wasn't starting very well at all. Victor swallowed hard, and plucked up his courage. "I do play….a little." he whispered faintly.

Unfortunately, she didn't hear him. Emily resumed playing her sad tune on the piano.

Victor swallowed again, and walked right up to the piano. When she paused for a moment, he played back the same melody with a little accompaniment by his left hand.

She looked up in surprise, and repeated the melody, adding an ending this time.

Once again plucking up his courage, Victor played a completely different melody with both hands at his end of the piano.

Emily beamed, and began to play her own version of the new tune at the lower end, while he repeated his part, this time a little louder so that it could still be heard next to Emily's loud tones.

This went on for a minute or so, until one of her hands slid up the keyboard in a dramatic flourish that startled the pair.

She giggled. "Pardon my enthusiasm."

"I like your enthusiasm." Victor said shyly.

A gasp came from the doorway.

_"What impropriety is this!"_ Emily's father boomed. _"You two shouldn't be **alone** together!_ Come on! We'll be late to the wedding rehearsal!" 


	2. To Life

A/N: Aplogies for the wait. Since I'm technically not allowed to respond to reviews, which is irritating, I'm just going to extend a heartfelt thank you for all the positive feedback- and a special cheer for the reviewer who got the reference. With any luck, the formatting will be better this time (since the site let me upload it in Word instead of html today)

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Pastor Gourdwells grumbled. "With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine. _Shall we see if we can get it right this time, Master Van Dort!_"

Victor gulped. "Uh, with this candle…" He attempted to light the wick, but each time the fire refused to catch on. He continually pushed the wick into the flame, but each time it came out the same way.

"Shall I do it for him?" his mother hissed irritably.

Mr. Swanton was continually tapping his foot in an edgy manner.

Poor Victor realized that Emily was giggling behind her hand. Then he noticed that the candle had finally caught on fire, and he attempted to begin again.

"Um, with this hand, I will…"

With trademark clumsiness, he didn't so much bang as slam into the table.

"Three steps, boy!" The Pastor roared. "Can't you count?"

"I-er, sorry." Victor stammered.

"Did you even remember to bring the ring?"

Victor's eyes went panicky. "I-er, of course I remembered to bring the ring! H-here it is."

He fished around in his pockets for a few seconds, and then finally pulled out a small gold ring.

The young man's grip was so tight on the ring, however, that it flew out of his hand. While everyone groaned again, Victor dashed after the metal band.

Quite unexpectedly, another hand caught the ring.

"A Lord Barkis Bittern, to see you, sir." The butler announced stiffly.

The new arrival, almost certainly Lord Barkis, entered the room with a careless look on his face. "I've never been very good at remembering dates." he commented, idly tossing the ring in the direction of a red-faced Victor. "It seems I'm a day early for the wedding."

Victor attempted to catch it in the same way Lord Barkis had, but instead fumbled, and had to crawl under a table to find the band.

While Mr. Swanton assured him that it was perfectly all right, Victor surfaced from underneath the table, only to see his fiancée gazing at Lord Barkis in such a soppy way it was positively criminal.

Feeling worse than ever, the young man dragged his feet over to the altar, where Emily did not seem to notice he was there, in favor of looking at the other man.

The Pastor banged his staff quite loudly on the floor, causing the adults and Lord Barkis to sniff, and the engaged couple to jump.

"I was under the impression I was conducting a wedding rehearsal." he barked. "If that is still our aim, might we be allowed to continue with the proceedings?" This last was said with a very nasty look towards Lord Barkis.

Emily flushed. "I'm very sorry, Pastor Gourdwells." she murmured demurely.

"Don't be sorry, be quiet!" he growled, but looked slightly mollified. Turning back to Victor, he added, "Kindly try it one more time, Master Van Dort. _With this hand._ _Three steps._ Again?"

He swallowed. One, two, three steps. "With this hand, I will-"

"Your _right!"_

For a moment he was confused. "Right? Right? Oh!" Victor tossed the candle to his other hand quickly. He could have sworn he heard Emily give a resigned sigh.

"Watch that hand, boy!"

To his horror, Victor realized he was holding the candle to the fabric of the tablecloth. As soon as he jerked it away, three things happened in unison.

Emily, in a moment of considerable foresight, dashed away from the table.

The candle's wick went out.

The table burst into flames.

Victor's parents were shouting directions at him, Emily's father was roaring, "Just put it out, boy!", and the Pastor was howling all sorts of things.

Certain that there was no way to remedy the situation, Victor barreled his way into the door, desperately searching for the knob. When he found it, he sped out of the house as fast as he could.

Once everyone had stopped panicking, the fire was put out hastily, and no real damage was done.

"Well, he's certainly a catch." Lord Barkis commented sarcastically. Emily blushed.

--------------------

Victor sighed, glancing at the doll on his desk. In fleeing, he had gone to the most secure place he could think of.

Well, his house would be the obvious place if anyone decided to look for him, but he wouldn't mind it if someone looked for him. At least it would prove that someone cared enough to look.

"Oh, Victoria." He murmured, raising a finger to gently touch the side of her face. "At least you'll never think I'm an idiot."

Victor sighed again. He couldn't help wishing that she _could_ think. "Oh, it's hopeless. If only you were real, then I wouldn't be engaged to Emily."

He turned away, and therefore didn't see the slight twitching of Victoria's right arm. "I mean, she seems nice. She's nice…but- Emily wouldn't be happy with someone like _me._"

Meanwhile, Victoria's limbs had begun to move of their own accord. Her arms slowly bent upwards, her tiny white fingers clasped together, still keeping the blue flower between them. Her face remained at the same angle, but she was blinking now.

Slowly, ever so slowly, as if to the rhythm of Victor's continued talking, she began to grow. Once she was a foot high, she leaped off the desk, landing quietly on the floor behind him.

"- She seemed to like that Lord Barkis, anyway." Victor continued, still not noticing what was happening behind him. "If only my parents weren't so set on me marrying Emily…"

A white hand landed on Victor's shoulder. "What if there was someone else with equal status, who liked you for who you are?"

"Yes, that would be- Aaah!" Victor jumped and spun around.

There was Victoria, standing in front of him in the flesh, with her familiar smile, which changed to concern when she noticed his shock.

"Are you all right, Victor?" she asked, raising her hand to feel his forehead. "I didn't startle you, did I?"

Victor's jaw was bobbing up and down uselessly, his eyes so wide it seemed impossible. He couldn't seem to get out any coherent statements. Finally, he managed a- "Y-you…..Victoria?"

She beamed. "Yes, you remember. I've been your doll for over ten years." Victoria frowned again. "Oh, dear, I did frighten you. I'm sorry, Victor."

"T-that's perfectly all right." Victor babbled. "Well, I did wish you were alive, and- here you are…."

"Yes." Victoria said softly. "I'm here now, Victor. I've always been here, but I could never speak to you before."

Victor's hand went to his head, as if he suddenly had a headache. "Always? But that means…oh dear, I'm so sorry I broke off your arm when I was twelve! I fixed it, but it was never quite the same…"

She laughed quietly. "Oh, that! I didn't feel anything at the time, don't worry. Besides, it's fine now."

"It- it's really all right?" Victor said hesitantly.

Victoria smiled again. "Yes, it's really all right. I could only hear and see faded images when I was a doll."

"Look…" he said nervously. "You must think me terribly rude, but- if you were a doll all those years…how did you come to be well…alive?"

She sighed. "Well, it's a bit of a long story. You see, Victor… I wasn't always a doll. About, well…I suppose it's around fourteen years ago now. My parents were aristocratic, but they were losing money so quickly that they were becoming desperate. They-" Victoria swallowed hard. "They engaged me to a middle-aged rich lord who seemed to get money out of nowhere. As it turned out, his source of income was through marrying rich women and disposing of them in various ways. One of his paintings told me about it. She had been an heiress once, until she married him."

"My parents wouldn't have believed me." Victor said glumly.

"Well, neither did mine." Victoria said wryly. "They told me I was raving, and insisted on going through with the marriage. At least, until he asked about my dowry, after the ceremony. When Mother told him I didn't have any… well, at first he said that it was perfectly fine. He lost his head once they were gone, and turned me into a doll."

She looked at the floor. "I don't really remember much after that, to be honest. I think he must have sold me off to a shop, because the next thing I remember was your parents buying me."

Victor frowned. "But- I named you Victoria." he said slowly. "If you were alive before that- then what's your real name?"

She smiled. "Victoria. I never had any name but that. You just happened to give me the same name I had all the time."

"Oh….really? And you've been my doll all this time?"

It was suddenly all too much.

Victor fainted.


End file.
